Altair decided to burn the corpses to avoid trouble. If people found them, they might panic, and animals could eat the poisoned bodies, potentially spreading the poison further.
He also worried that someone might recognize the signs of poisoning and start asking questions. If the poison was traced back to him, it could lead to consequences he wasn't prepared for. Burning the bodies was the safest option—it would erase any evidence and prevent suspicion.
Though burning corpses was considered inhuman—believed to prevent souls from reincarnating—Altair still convinced himself that he would be the one in trouble if he didn't do it. So he gritted his teeth and did it anyway.
Before setting them aflame, he searched their bodies for anything valuable or hidden. Most of what he found was junk—trinkets and a handful of coins. But as he rummaged through the leader's coat, his fingers brushed against something unusual. He pulled out a folded parchment and carefully unfolded it. His eyes widened in shock.
It was a copy of a detailed map of Veinburgh Town.
His breath hitched. How did these bandits get their hands on something like this?
And this wasn't just a simple town layout. The map was marked with symbols—circles, crosses, and lines—scattered throughout the surrounding region. He traced the ink with his fingers, analyzing the pattern. The circled locations seemed to align with known villages, while the crossed-out ones…
Raided villages.
A cold realization settled over him. He recalled hearing about villages that had been pillaged and left in ruins. These marked locations matched those reports.
But what puzzled him were the other circled areas—empty stretches of land where there should be nothing of value. Why mark them?
His first thought was that they might be bandit hideouts, but he dismissed the idea. There are too many marks for all of them to be bases. Even bandits wouldn't be foolish enough to label their hideouts so openly. His gaze settled on one particular mark—a circle just a day's journey ahead. As he studied the map further, a pattern emerged: the circled locations lined up along all major roads leading to Veinburgh.
What could these marks mean?
After half a day's travel, he reached the first marked location. It was just off the main road, hidden within a sparse grove of trees. As he crept closer, he spotted three men standing near a makeshift tent, their weapons strapped to their waists.
The first bandit was a stocky man with a scar running down his cheek, his hand resting on the hilt of a notched longsword. The second was leaner, shifting his grip on a short, curved blade. The last one, an archer, was the tallest of the three, holding a worn-out bow with a quiver of mismatched arrows slung across his back.
Their weapons were of different makes, likely stolen from various victims. Unlike the five he had killed earlier—who carried only daggers and a single crossbow—these three were better armed.
Altair crouched behind the cover of a tree and listened.
"I'm telling you, they should've been back by now," the stocky man grumbled, kicking at the dirt.
"Maybe they got held up," the lean one replied with a shrug. "You know how those guys are. Probably too busy stuffing their faces."
The archer let out a dry chuckle. "Or maybe they found something worth taking their time with."
Altair's grip tightened on the crossbow when he realized what they were talking about. So they're waiting for their 'brothers.' That meant the bandits he had killed earlier were supposed to report here. It made sense—this area was the closest to their last location. If he hadn't taken them out, these men would have received word and possibly sent reinforcements.
A realization struck him.
These places… They're not just random hideouts. They're contact points.
What these bandits were doing wasn't just mindless looting. This level of organization and strategic positioning wasn't something ordinary bandits from the villages could come up with. Someone must be behind them, coordinating everything.
He considered taking them out as he had before, but it was still morning. Unlike last night, these men looked alert and ready. The previous group had been vulnerable in their sleep, and darkness had given him the advantage. But here, in broad daylight, he couldn't guarantee the same outcome.
Better to let the authorities handle this. If the bandits realized multiple contact points had gone silent, they would get suspicious.
With quiet steps, he backed away and made his way toward Veinburgh.
By the time he reached the town gates, the sun was beginning to dip. He approached a pair of guards stationed at the entrance, both clad in chainmail and gripping their spears.
"I need to report something," Altair said, his tone urgent.
One of the guards, a middle-aged man with a thick beard, eyed him warily. "State your business."
Altair pulled out the folded map and crossbow, handing them over. He made up a lie. "I found this on a body along the road."
He kept his explanation vague, pretending to be clueless—just someone who had stumbled upon these items by accident. If the guards examined the map and the crossbow, they would likely figure out the rest themselves.
He didn't want to know too much. If someone was truly behind the bandits, there was no telling if they had allies within the town. He didn't want to risk retaliation. The only reason he had managed to deal with the bandits was because of the poison he had purchased from the system—but he couldn't tell anyone that.
The bearded guard unfolded the parchment, scanning the markings. His eyes darkened. "Where exactly did you find this?"
"About half a day's journey back, near the forested path, on the fork road towards Cain Village," Altair replied. "I'm from Cintra Village. I saw this lying beside the tree near a burned corpse. When I was looking for a place to rest. I only picked up this map and the weapon. I thought the crossbow might belong to one of your soldiers."
The second guard, a younger man with sharp eyes, glanced at his companion and signaled something.
The bearded guard nodded, then looked back at Altair. "Your name?"
"Altair Camis."
"Show me your household registration."
Altair handed over his papers. The soldier examined them, then returned them with a nod.
"Stay in town for now. We may need more details later."
Altair agreed, relieved that they were taking him seriously. He only hoped they would act quickly.